Sleep was already somewhat compromised by losing an hour of precious ZZZZZZZs due to the Daylight Saving Time event, without having slumber encumbered by an annoying clicking noise deep into the night.
Now, I am not usually one of those people who stew and fret about that 60 minutes whittled from the weekend every Spring, but this time it was downright annoying.
Though it is smarter to adjust ALL the clocks the night before, I usually don’t, save for my duo of trusty alarm clocks. I say “trusty” because I’ve owned this pair of identical alarm clocks for decades. I am disciplined enough to rarely use the snooze feature, but I do set the two clocks to ring off about a half-hour apart, lest I return to Sleepy Land and make myself late.
Last night I sped the clock hands around to spring forward for the time change, then pulled the alarm buttons out. In the middle of the night, however, I awoke to a loud clicking – it was dark, of course, and the noise was by my head and next to the bed. I turned on the nightstand lamp and found the culprit … the hands had fallen off the spindle on one of the clocks. There they were, wedged rather pitifully, at the base of the clock face. Every time the second hand swept past those dilapidated hands, it made a horrible clickety-clacking noise. For a brief moment I thought there was some kind of “Hickory, Dickory Dock” shenanigans going on.
So … what to do?
I picked up the clock and jiggled it around, hoping that the wayward hands might miraculously land back in the right place. No such luck. Not wanting to tear myself from my comfy, curled-up position in the warm bed to try to perform surgery on an alarm clock, I yanked the battery out, feeling quite proud of myself for having dealt with that little fix-it since I was still half asleep.
Ahhh, peace and quiet again.
Except of course, the first alarm went off, and I said “pfft” and waited on the second one ….
Well, that blew a good portion of my Sunday since I didn’t wake up for hours afterward.
I have always had a quirky bond with clocks; in fact, it’s almost a love-hate relationship.
My kitchen clock is very old and every time there is a time change, I hold my breath that the battery stays in place since I must nudge it to access the dial to move the hands. Sometimes, that C battery will slide out of the compartment slightly, then when the chimes start at the top of the hour, it is a rather bizarre noise … a kind of slow-motion “boing”, “boing”, “boing” ‘til it gets relief, i.e. pushing the battery back in place, or installing a new one. That clock’s pendulum has always been wacky, so, upon replacing the clock on the wall, I must tilt the whole thing this way and that to start the pendulum, then slow it down. Otherwise, I’ll be typing along and in my peripheral vision, I see this brass disc dancing back and forth crazily. It always reminds me of those Kit-Cat Kitty Cat Clocks, those kitchen clocks that have been around for eons where the black cat’s eyes shift to and fro and the tail swings back and forth like a pendulum.
And, I know I should peek at the car manual to get directions on resetting the car clock since it got messed up when I got the new battery a month ago. I don’t want to wait ‘til my next trip to the dealership for the most-recent recall since they don’t know when the parts are coming in.
Tempus fugit is a very eloquent way in Latin to say that time flies …it seems we just did this clock-changing exercise, and, all too soon November 1st will be here and we’ll be doing the time change once again.